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Last week, I finished Sebastien De Castell’s novel, Saint’s Blood, the third book of the Greatcoats. Like the previous two, it was a fun (well, okay, mostly fun) rollicking adventure yarn full of wit, humor, and swashbuckling derring do. As much as I enjoyed the previous two installments, I’ll give Saint’s Blood higher marks in that it keeps the main cast together. Both Traitor’s Blade and Knight’s Shadow have bogged down when Falcio val Mond (our noble protagonist) has gone off on his own. Really – for me anyway – it is the banter and interrelationships between Falcio, Kest, and Brasti that really make these books sing. Take one of them out of the picture and the landscape darkens noticeably.

As fun as it was, there were a couple of issues for me. Castell’s language has always been colorful, but in this installment things just seemed more…explicit. It just felt a bit out of character. And the repeated use of “arsehole” just felt a bit silly. Likewise, rather than his usual pragmatism, Falcio seems far more pessimistic and defeatist in this adventure. That might make sense given the natural of the adversary (sorry, no spoilers), but again it feels out of character and inorganic, as though Castell decided he needed to recast Falcio’s personality to fit the story rather than the other way around. But while these detract slightly from the whole, it doesn’t diminish the story, the characters, or the finale. And what a finale! I cheered the finale of Knight’s Shadow – if you’ve read it, you know exactly the part I’m talking about – and Saint’s Blood closed with at least as much joy in this reader’s heart.

The most bittersweet part of finishing Saint’s Blood is in knowing that the fourth installment, Tyrant’s Throne, is the final book of the Greatcoats. It feels funny to say that – I am not a fan of endless series or of authors who ride one series into the dirt in their careers. Yes, that applies to Terry Prachett and Jim Butcher, as much as I love their work, as it does Terry Goodkind, Terry Brooks, and Robert Jordan (the less said about those the better). And yes, I know Butcher is working on a fantasy series too but c’mon. 24 Dresden novels? Really?! When he gets to #22, someone needs to send ole Jim a copy of Stephen King’s Misery just for laughs.

But yes, it is bittersweet to know the Greatcoats is coming to an end. Not only because I’ll miss the adventures of Falcio, Kest, and Brasti (and Ethalia, Valiana, and Dariana), but because this is the first series of books that I’ve had this much fun reading in a long time. The swashbuckling adventure genre isn’t awash with options these days. So while I wait for the Dallas Public Library to get their hands on Tyrant’s Throne, I’m going to be looking for a new voice that brings me the same thrill. Wish me luck.

A Parting Gift

An excerpt from the novel. Don’t worry, it won’t spoil anything. Go ahead and read it:

Udriel is what we call in the business a sanguinist: a fencer whose primary strategy is to go for little cuts—wounds that sting and bleed and distract you, until you start to slow down without even realizing it. Sanguinists take their time, pulling you apart bit by bit, until they can end the fight with a single, brilliant flourish—they usually go for an artery so that you end up bleeding out spectacularly all over the floor. It can create quite a stunning tableau for the audience.

I hate sanguinists.

The moment I read this passage, I said to myself, “dammit, 7th Sea needs sanguinists!”

Throughout the book, Falcio describes a number of duelist archetypes. I’ve taken the liberty of compiling all of them into a single file so you can add them to your swashbuckling game of choice. Flashing Blades, Honor+Intrigue, Witch Hunter, All For One, Savage World of Solomon Kane, it doesn’t matter. All of these games need sanguinists. And now they can.

In the remote mountains of Croatia, an archaeologist makes a strange discovery: a subterranean Catholic chapel, hidden for centuries, holds the bones of a Neanderthal woman. In the same cavern system, elaborate primitive paintings tell the story of an immense battle between tribes of Neanderthals and monstrous shadowy figures. Who is this mysterious enemy depicted in these ancient drawings and what do the paintings mean?

Before any answers could be made, the investigative team is attacked, while at the same time, a bloody assault is made upon a primate research center outside of Atlanta. How are these events connected? Who is behind these attacks? The search for the truth will take Commander Gray Pierce of Sigma Force 50,000 years into the past. As he and Sigma trace the evolution of human intelligence to its true source, they will be plunged into a cataclysmic battle for the future of humanity that stretches across the globe . . . and beyond.

With the fate of our future at stake, Sigma embarks on its most harrowing odyssey ever—a breathtaking quest that will take them from ancient tunnels in Ecuador that span the breadth of South America to a millennia-old necropolis holding the bones of our ancestors. Along the way, revelations involving the lost continent of Atlantis will reveal true mysteries tied to mankind’s first steps on the moon. In the end, Gray Pierce and his team will face to their greatest threat: an ancient evil, resurrected by modern genetic science, strong enough to bring about the end of man’s dominance on this planet.

That’s the back cover blurb for James Rollins’ novel, The Bone Labyrinth. Part of his “Sigma Force” series, which sounds like a mix of Vince Flynn and Dan Brown. And DAMN if it doesn’t sound like the set up for a kick ass Witch Hunter campaign!

I haven’t read any of Rollins’ latest stuff. But Amazonia and Excavation were great fun if you like pulp tales in the vein of Doc Savage or Indiana Jones. Which is probably why Rollins got the nod to write the novelization for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. It’s light, breezy stuff befitting of the genre. Rollins isn’t at the top of my recommended reading list, but his stuff is consistent and fun and well worth a look if you are into pulp adventure. I haven’t read any of his Sigma Force novels, but they have been on my radar. Because, as with the Bone Labyrinth, the descriptions just scream Witch Hunter (or Rippers, for my fellow Savage World aficionados) adventures, though set against a modern backdrop.

I’m going to take the plunge though. The Bone Labyrinth is sitting ready, just waiting for me to finish Patrick Rothfuss’ The Name of the Wind. Once I’m done, I’ll report back. If its as good a fit as I think it will be, I may even do a bit of adventure outlining here.

But what about you? Any other James Rollins fans out there? What Sigma Force books should I be looking at if I like The Bone Labyrinth?

That’s right! It’s been awhile, but I’m back with more children’s reading recommendations for gamer parents with young kids. Here we go!

George and the Dragon, by Chris Wormell

The story of a fierce fire breathing dragon with a terrible psychological flaw and his new, impoverished but upwardly mobile neighbor. This book is not what you expect. It’s short and its fun. The art is great, too. If your kid loves dragons, this needs to be in your library.

Vampirina Ballerina, by Anne Marie Pace (Illus. LeUyen Pham)

Here’s one for you World of Darkness fans, you Camarilla members, goths and gothic lovers. First up, LeUyen Pham is a fantastic illustrator and has been attached to a lot of good projects (I’ll give the Hillary Clinton puff piece a pass because my personal biases shouldn’t diminish the quality of the art). This is a cute book and my daughter’s new favorite. It really speaks to being the new kid, being out of step, and coming together as a team. Oh, and it has vampires. BTW, for fashionistas-in-training, I can also recommend another LeUyen Pham illustrated book, Shoe-La-La.

When a Dragon Moves in Again, by Jodi Moore

What?! Jodi Moore wrote a follow up to When a Dragon Moves In? I haven’t even read it and I’m going to recommend it. That’s how good it’s predecessor was.

For about the past month, I’ve been reading Django Wexler’s The Thousand Names. As of last Wednesday, I stopped. I’ve given it the old college try, stuck with it through plague and pestilence, running solo as a parent while the wife was away at a conference, even visits from the in-laws. In that time, I only managed 80 pages…in small bites.

I’m not really sure how this one failed me. It was on my short list. I really wanted to like it. It begins with a very cool Prologue that the first…tenth – geez, this really does sound unfair – of the novel just does not manage to capitalize on.

Perhaps my expectations were off. I dug in hoping for a clash of cultures worthy of Guy Gavriel Kay’s Lions of Al-Rassan. What I got was more like a British Military outpost in Afghanistan (circa 1839-42), if the military spoke more like American soldiers. It just felt…off. Compound that with the first hundred pages is all set-up. The veterans at the garrison are demoralized. A new Commander has been sent to kick them into shape and deal with the insurgent threat of a massive tribal army bent on kicking the invaders out. That sounds great, doesn’t it? And yet…The main characters we’re introduced to early on are mostly cliches: the woman masquerading as a man in the military, the soldier promoted up from down ranks who is more aware than the rest of the officers. At least the new commander is receptive to his criticisms and recommendations.

So this one goes back to the library. Sorry, but if I can’t find something to latch onto in 30 days that will keep me reading more than 3-4 pages at a stretch, the name on the book had better be Pynchon (or Delillo, I’m easy) or it’s going back. I’m not even going to rate this one for obvious reasons. If you’ve read the book and loved it…even liked it, please sing its praises in the comments section. Maybe at some point I’ll give it another shot.

A Plunder of Souls, D. B. Jackson’s third book in the Thieftaker series, doesn’t waste a lot of time kicking into high gear. Like Thieftaker and Thieves’ Quarry, A Plunder of Souls revolves around Ethan Kaille, a sorcerer (or conjurer in the context of the series) with a checkered past doing his best to make ends meet and maintain his honor on the streets of British colonial Boston. Back is the usual rogues’ gallery of foils and foes, including firebrand Sam Adams and the Wicked Sephira Pyrce. A spectral threat looms over the city at large, all as we have come to expect from this series.

Where the previous two books have focused on mystery and the sinister machinations of an unknown villain, A Plunder of Souls dispenses with all that gives us a very front and center villain in Captain Nate Ramsey. There isn’t much mystery to Ramsey’s motives, though the means marks another departure for the series. Along with its villain, A Plunder of Souls really puts magic at the fore of the story. This allows Jackson to really dig his teeth into the metaphyics that govern the universe of his novels, with promising results.

But back to the villainous Ramsey. It is well understood that the hero of any story is nothing without a good villain. In fact, in my experience, the villain is often more important than the character of the hero. If we, the audience, don’t buy into the villain, don’t buy his or her motivations and complexities, than what follows is largely formulaic (especially in genre fiction). Perhaps it his directness or his intensity, but Nate Ramsey quickly becomes one of those villains you love to hate. I feel the need to applaud Jackson. Given Ramsey’s motivations, it would have been very easy for the writer to paint him as overly sympathetic and justified. Thankfully, Jackson avoided that awful knee-jerk tendency and gave Ramsey a suitably black heart. In a stroke, his motivation also becomes one of his few weaknesses, and one that Kaille is loathe to employ regardless of the threat posed.

Perhaps it was because I read this book following the long slog that was Mark Chadbourne’s The Devil’s Looking Glass, but the pacing felt lightning quick and satisfactory. Despite all the technobabble about how magic works, the book never feels like it slows long enough to loosen its grip. Where in the previous two books, the main character has had time to pause, reflect and connect the dots, A Plunder of Souls has a real sense of urgency to it — as if in taking that time to tie everything together, the hero and reader alike will be steamrolled by unfolding events. Jackson even manages to give us some real character growth in regards to Kaille, though the true measure of that will depend on the The Dead Man’s Reach, the next installment of the series. You can bet that will be on my reading list for 2016.

Last week I finally finished Mark Chadbourn’s The Devil’s Looking Glass, the third (and final) book in his Swords of Albion trilogy. Set in mid-16th century Elizabethan England, the Swords of Albion tells the story of England’s “greatest spy,” Will Swyfte. While the public at large reveres him as a hero against Spanish aggression, this is all an elaborate ruse put on by the crown as Swyfte and his cohorts battle against a much more sinister and dangerous foe: the Unseelie Court of the Fey.

I began reading the series at the recommendation of a friend. The first two of the series were good, but fell a bit shy of the greatness they aspired too. The Devil’s Looking Glass was no exception. In fact, while the third installment was certainly the most action packed and “weird fantasy” of the series, it was also the hardest to finish. It felt like it was full of speed bumps.

The story The Devil’s Looking Glass attempts to tell is quite ambitious. London is suffering under a terrible enchanted siege by the Unseelie Court while Swyfte and his coterie of spies race to rescue Dr. John Dee, alchemist and sorcerer who alone holds the key to protecting England from the otherworldly predations of the fey. Unfortunately, the doctor has fallen into madness under the influence of an enchanted mirror and has set off across the sea towards the New World. Ultimately, our journey takes us across the Atlantic to the otherworldly den of the Unseelie Court in a mad gambit to defeat them once and for all and tie up as many loose ends as we can along the way.

Ambitious. And therein lies the problem. To do justice to any one of the stories it presents, The Devil’s Looking Glass would have to be nearly three times as long. So the siege of London gets barely a chapter here or there, enough to tell the reader, “yeah, it’s bad.” Most of those times, it’s to remind the reader of some terrible secret the minister of spies is keeping from Will Swyfte (that pretty much everyone else in power seems to be aware of, coincidentally) – a secret that could drive the man to murder those he cherishes most. Without giving away too much, that terrible secret turns out to be pretty…uncomplicated, shall we say, as are the effects of its revelation. But hey, we get a big sword fight with the King of the Unseelie Court.

Speaking of which, there is never any mention of a Seelie Court of the fey. This was something I always found annoying about this whole series.

The novel really amps up the “weird” aspect of Will Swyfte’s world. From the terrifying mermaids to the glassy Sargasso Sea, to the bizarre defenses of the Unseelie fortress, the novel dips much deeper into the fantasy aspect of the series, though it still remains rooted in alternative history.

In the previous books, there has always been some historical event to provide a foundation and a backdrop to the events in the novel (The Silver Skull, for instance, featured the battle against the Spanish Armada), giving them a sort of secret history vibe. The Devil’s Looking Glass pitches all that for a race against time that doesn’t really feel that urgent. Our heroes are chasing Dee knowing that England is under siege by a force they cannot hope to match, but the story doesn’t give it that much weight. In fact, most of our heroes seem confident they will never return, giving their lives in the battle against the Unseelie or, in Will Swyfte’s case, uncovering darker, more personal mysteries. And frankly, if the characters are going to care so little about what’s going on at home, why should we, the readers?

By denying the book a terrestrial foe, say France or Spain as in the previous books, the world feels much more narrowly defined and two dimensional. Such a gross display of power by the Unseelie is not going to be answered by anyone else? This makes the events of the novel feel shallow. Again, if no one else is going to care…

The interpersonal conflicts feel a bit two dimensional too. None of them really resolve themselves. Sure, everyone has something of an “oh shit!” moment, but nothing that forces them to really reexamine themselves. The closest we get to that is the Earl of Launceston, who in addition to being a noble and a spy is a compassionless serial killer. But Launceston has known what he is since the first book. Ultimately, the sun goes down on Will Swyfte and the other characters much as it rose, with only one question of importance being answered. I don’t really expect hard-core character driven stories from genre fiction, but this time around Chadbourn doesn’t even seem to be trying. He’s just things off his outline as he goes.

And the threat of the Unseelie court? Likewise swept up with lukewarm satisfaction. Consider, if the fey live in a dimension where a decade or a century passes for each of our years, exactly how long can you hope to occupy them with even the best of intrigues. It’s a numbers game that doesn’t add up.

So there you have it. While at once the most ambitious book of the series, The Devil’s Looking Glass falls farthest from satisfaction. It never really delivers on its promise, and leaves this reader more satisfied with the effort of actually finishing the book than the conclusion of events. Two out of five stars from me.

It takes a lot for a book to make me laugh. It’s probably the reason why I could never quite get into Terry Prachett. It’s not that I’m a humorless guy…at least, I don’t think I am. I can appreciate satire as much as anyone. It just doesn’t make me laugh.

Traitor’s Blade made me laugh. A lot. It was the first book I’ve read in a while now that I would characterize as a FUN read. Traitor’s Blade is FUN. It’s also gripping, tense, even a bit horrific, with careful drops and drabs of dark humor and grimdark fantasy. Sebastien De Castell was really going for a Three Musketeers vibe when he wrote Traitor’s Blade and he succeeded…wildly.

I picked up Traitor’s Blade as a bit of a break from the cycle of pseudo-historical/fantasies I’ve been reading lately. I needed to recharge the batteries and it showed up well recommended on Goodreads.

The book sets off as our hero, Falcio val Mond sits babysitting a pompous merchant prince along with his two companions, Kest and Brasti. The three are Greatcoats, the famed company of the King’s magistrates, now disbanded and disgraced in the eyes of even the lowest serf. When the king they served ran afoul of the Dukes, a sort of oligarchy nobility who constitute the real power in the lands of Tristia, the Greatcoats sworn to protect him and see that the King’s laws were enforced stepped aside and let the king be murdered by his own noble subjects.

Unlike Steven Brust’s Phoenix Guard, another novel that immerses itself in the style and flair of Dumas, Castell chooses to adopt a more contemporary, breezy writing style.

I will admit, early on I began to fear I had stumbled onto a Three Musketeers Meets The Black Company story early on, but the grimdark elements are refreshingly light in Traitor’s Blade. Oh, the villains are ugly, vile things the reader will immediately hate – the shades of gray here are not reserved for the villains in true swashbuckling fashion. But those horrific elements exist to uplift the heroes rather than drag them down into the muck (as in, say, FX’s Bastard Executioner series).

The interaction between the three principle characters is fantastic, with all of the drama and humor one expects from a tale of swashbuckling heroes. Each has his own voice. And while flawed, they aren’t crippled by their shortcomings.

The second act does get a bit lost in the weeds, as the novel takes a sudden turn as Falcio and a child he has sworn to protect dodge assassins and worse on the gritty streets of a city in the midst of its “Blood Week,” seven days when one’s only claim to title or property is what he or she can defend from their murderous neighbors. Sort of a fantasy version of the Purge. It works, and the act is tense and gripping, but it feels like a novella within the novel, giving it a bit of a disjointed structure that robs the whole of some satisfaction. But only slightly. It’s the equivalent of complaining about having to roll down your own windows in an old car.

Naturally, the conclusion of the novel sets the stage for the second book in the series. But enough loose ends are tied up to make it satisfying in and of itself. Trust me when I say that you’ll be reading the next book (or not, as the case may be) because you love the characters, not because you are waiting for some grand resolution to the troubles of Tristia.

So to sum up, fun, exciting, refreshing character-driven fantasy. Five out of five stars. Take a break from whatever else you are doing and read this book. You’ll thank me later.